


Imagine reuniting with Vikings

by UltraVioletSky



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraVioletSky/pseuds/UltraVioletSky





	1. 1

Ivar POV

His world was full of hate. He knew that their blood on his blade won’t help him sleep, but still he was raging inside slaying Saxons without regret without fear. 

After another bloody battle and new win he went to be alone. He needed to calm his rage away from people which were drinking in his honor, afraid that he may hurt them, afraid that he will be again reminded how different he is. 

Thinking was always bad idea, especially at night when his loneliness knew how to break his mood into smallest fragments of despair. He forced himself to close his eyes, body was aching mind was racing into wrong direction, but still he managed to slip down into dreamland.

He saw her there, silhouette covered in mist, she was walking slowly away from the place he was locked in. He wanted to stop her, call her or make her at least turn in his direction so that he could see her face. But he was captured, and she was heading towards great golden door, her step was gracious as she was floating above grass, she was alone on that field for a while, then loud sound broke the silence. 

Dark clouds hid the sun, and unearthly creatures showed up. He was giving his best to break the chains on his hands, he was screaming without the voice and when they caught her he only heard her scream which was more painful than an open wound, and bellow that scream was her voice again.

“Find me.”

He woke up covered in sweat, disturbed and afraid. Who was she, and why this dream keep coming back night over night. Was she his mother? She surely was tall and graceful as her, but her hair was longer, and the color of it was different shade. Was that his subconscious mind reminding him that he lusted for women after all, and no matter how hard he tried to deny it?

Reader POV

Speed was carved in your blood, urge to tap in the force larger than yourself and let your nature take over those moments of peace. You didn’t belonged in their world of fear and prayers, and yet you were forced to respect everything that was opposing to the things your soul resonated with.

That day like every other you let your horse take you away from the village, hours went by like minutes while you were training alone in the woods, but as much you were trying to focus on your movements and breathing, some sea inside your stomach tortured you with wild waves crashing peace.

Your nose was also sensing something off, hint of fire and blood and yet it wasn’t enough to convince you in the reality of it. Only when you mounted your horse and headed back you couldn’t ignore that scent any longer, your eyes saw the source and your heart hammered against your chests climbing up to your neck.

Vikings.

Mixed feelings were suffocated in all the screaming sounds around you. They were ravaging village you grow up with and you stopped your horse in one place, your eyes transfixed absorbing their warrior movements.

“y/n hide” one of the girls shouted, but you couldn’t actually move witnessing the day you were imagining for years. In their veins and yours red liquid had the same origin; Odin was your god too.

They didn’t know that, you realized when one of them kicked you out your horse before you could muster what got you. Fall shocked your body but enhanced your perception of the next movement of sword; you rolled to the side, jumping to your feet.

Eyes of your attacker grow wide veins prominent on his muscled neck, and yet you felt no fear.

“Come on” you teased on their language surprising him even more, he striked again your reflexes intensified his rage.

You needed weapon. Fast. Scanning surrounding with peripheral sight you saw only wooden stick nearby.

In the name of Odin you said, accepting item regardless your disadvantage at the start, and you griped that stick as the life itself.

Lucky day, you thought as your first hit in his eyeball knocked down his massive frame.

But others came. You took his sword, thought of gods again, Valhalla and your parents there.

Was their spirit ruling your body, your mind was trying to grasp as you cut through their flesh fiercely making your way out, knowing there isn’t any actually.

In all the screaming and metal clashing somebody was laughing so hard, it was ruining your focus.

“Don’t touch her” authoritative male voice overpowered Viking blade an inch from piercing your skin.

Time stopped. No. But everybody did. Even you, only the wheels of war chariot soaked in fresh blood kept spinning, getting closer to you.

You saw red. Blood drops in your eyes blurred the sight of massive vehicle approaching and its rider, while you were in trance not even knowing why two of them caught your arms so strong that blood flow stopped under their grip.

“What should we do with her?” Shorter Viking asked chariot rider, obviously their leader.

“Hm? Fierce little thing, aren’t you?” he spoke to you his voice radiating more intensity than his people holding you tight in one place. If you only could wipe the blood of your eyes you thought, curious to see owner of powerful charisma clearly. “Who taught you to fight our way?”

“My father”

“Mhm?”

“He was a viking who came here with Ragnar Lotbrok, later stayed in settlement till Saxons killed everybody, I’m the only survivor.”

“Release her” he commanded to his men, curiosity lingering in his voice, and you wiped your eyes opening them slowly looking up in eyes that made you question, were you in Valhalla already, was the man in front of you a god because he surly looked like a one.

“In that case today is your lucky day, we are taking you home. I would use another good solder since you sent few of them in Valhalla now.”

You only nodded avoiding the contact with his intense eyes. He didn’t give you much choice, man like that was the one who gives orders, a true Viking like the ones from your earliest memories. You indeed dreamed that day to reunite with your people again, to join them in their adventurers and finally you got the chance.


	2. Chapter 2

Ivar’s POV

Again he was feeling every stone under his wheels, frustrating feeling of limitation to fully satisfy his appetites on the battlefield. But in time, he learned to satiate himself with the sight of destruction, which his mind was casting upon every battle, every raid he plotted. Was that a gift from the gods, or was he a god himself? His people were torturing their minds, with that question upon witnessing his brilliance every time. No one doubted in victory anymore, they would follow him in Hel and volunteered any time to be sent in Valhala by his deadly blow.

He became nearly indifferent, he needed the challenge, he needed something not so easy to conquer and defeat, some distraction to take his thoughts further from his loneliness, his curse, and in days he wasn’t getting any. They already took everything there, but some of his men were still fighting, wondering who could possibly be such an opponent he needed to approach them.

When he did, his jaw nearly clashed the floor of his chariot. Since when Valkyries fight Vikings? His silly brain wondered, while his eyes were giving in to the intensifying thirst for more. Enemy? If all enemies were like her, he really wouldn’t mind. To feel hammering of his heart against his chests while he blocks her gracious moves, and how blood of her enemies taste on his tongue, when he cleans her face back to perfection, which was peaking under the crimson liquid. 

No. She will be dead soon. Any second she will fall under the wrath of his men. She will fall. His insecurity and conflict arising from fear were cheering for salvation, but the girl was forged in fire of victors and her gracious moves with heaviest iron blade in her hand, were blessed by the gods themselves. Seeing how wild and berserk she was, his lungs let out loudest laughter, something definitely needed out from all the energy accumulated while enjoying the view.

“Don’t touch her” He shouted when she finally gave in to the exhaustion. Drops of blood were painting her face, her hair and her stupid christian dress. It wasn’t suiting her toned body well, it looked funny on her like it would be for him to do some farmers job like his brother Ubbe did.

His horse obeyed its master once more, coming closer to the girl, like the animal was sensing her significance somehow, and decided to ignore obstacles on the way stepping graciously and brave.

“What should we do with her?” His solders was asking with fear itched in their bones to move further without his permission. How boring everybody became. He thought rolling his eyes on their stupidity and blind obedience. But they were irrelevant as the wind blows around moment of admiration, which he didn’t experienced often in his lifetime.

“Hm? Fierce little thing, aren’t you? Who taught you to fight our way?” His curiosity attacked her, her confidence attracted to lean closer and stare trough the layers of sweat and blood.

“My father”

“Mhm?”

“He was a viking who came here with Ragnar Lotbrok, later stayed in settlement till Saxons killed everybody, I’m the only survivor.”

“Release her! In that case today is your lucky day, we are taking you home. I would use another good solder since you sent few of them in Valhalla now.” Yeah he said that, but maybe his statement was laced with lies, one of them maybe was his need to have her close, to see her without the blood and see her fight like a goddess again but this time on his side.

Reader POV

 

She was pouring nearly transparent gold hued liquid in your cup, her job was to serve, no questions asked, and yet you found yourself wondering the same thing again. Who do I serve, who will I follow in this new world of people so familiar and yet forgotten?

Nothing was as you were remembering, were they so cruel than too, but you were just too little to give the weight to their dishonorable deeds or they changed, evolved with the new leaders that came after Ragnar.

One of the most influential leaders, you found out soon after, was a godlike man from the chariot. You associated him somehow to Thor, remembering the legends of his means of transportation while in Midgard, and some part of you was again wandering around the borders of illusion, torturing you with thoughts and questions, how gods even allowed that mortal posses such a beauty, such charisma and power which intensity was heaviest load to bear only from the mere sight of him?

As a man on position of power, the one which vikings chose to lead them, he wasn’t easy to spot among ordinary men who had such a complex they are somehow God-given and in right to posses your body only because they found you exotic, attractive and wild.

You were too indeed surprised with results your skills achieved in any sparing, no matter how big or tough, or large in quantity opposite side was, you could bring them to their knees. It was odd for you, as it was to seasoned warriors who faced you with confidence and begged for mercy afterwards, but it was pointless to keep yourself contained any longer.

More and more often, you felt rising need for his eyes on you, while you thrive and keep surprising tough men and women of his army. But he could only haunt you in your dreams and pull you closer to madness with every new dawn.

Pointless desires. You kept numbing your senses with sweet liquor which was gliding through your throat faster than the air. Again they were feasting in his honor, mix of pride and fear coloring their tough features with every new shutout of his name. Again he wasn’t around, again you wished he was. Was he surrounded with naked beauties somewhere, or just too busy plotting the next attack? Your curiosity dominated your thoughts and your actions when you got out in hope you will meet him somewhere, somehow.


	3. Chapter 3

Reader POV 

“Untouchable I don’t think so”

Walking away from the crowd and the feast, feeling alien there, you heard some rough voices filled with bitter. You weren’t in the mood for explaining them your rejection with knuckles deep in their filthy skin. But in order to roam back in your sleeping chambers you needed to pass them by.

“He can’t even fight like a real man” you heard that disgusting tone again, this time even louder as they were located few steps ahead of you, little hidden behind the corner of the hut.

“True, but I wouldn’t underestimate him after all. You know that the all-father himself chose him.”

Only one person you knew, well not exactly, but for sure craved to meet, who could be associated with divine bloodline - was their leader, and having in mind the fact that he couldn’t walk, you guessed that he needed to be creative in order to fight against those who could, but your weren’t doubting even for a second that his fighting style could be disadvantage when confronting this three fools, you now got to scan from the close up.

“I say that we poison him, tomorrow morning. We can’t wait any longer, his power is only growing, and soon enough we will lose all the influence we have in our land. The tales of his glory are spreading like the plague; no one can outshine him anymore”

Were they plotting assassination? You raised your brow, sneaking up even closer, but barely louder than the wind, you had your talents, living as a reject in Christian land, you needed to keep yourself safe.

“What if? You know how he punishes those who even look at him in inappropriate way, let alone try to kill him.”

“Don’t be a coward. I have a plan that can’t fail” everything you knew and everything you didn’t was boiling your blood. A man like Ivar or a god like Ivar, you mixed those terms again, reminded of his existence, to be cowardly poisoned by those dishonorable worms awoken fury in you.

You won’t allow that. No matter if your attempts take you straight in Valhala, you won’t let that the man who was chosen to lead by the gods and mortals leave this realm before his time.

He was destined for greatness, and you really didn’t have to know him to see that. Catching yourself ascending him straight onto the throne of Aesir, you blushed on the thought, were there more than just pure admiration, and were those feelings, the one which girls of your age felt long time ago, for every other boy they laid their eyes on in your village.

And if they are, what next, when you were just a mortal.

No. Focus. You mentally slaped yourself. He was in danger for Odin’s sake, you will deal with your temptations later, for now you needed to reach him and warn him.

They reached you first. You fell before even registering how you end up under the heavy mud soaked boot.

“Filthy Christian bastard” His saliva covered your forehead; wrath was tightening your chests more than the sole of his footwear.

“You think she heard us?”

“Why does it even matter, after we have some fun… we will kill her too” how fear was foreign to you when their unjustified confidence was trying to color the atmosphere.

Honor.

That was the word which forged you, and their lack of it was only making you more eager to put them on their place.

How stupid they were, letting your arms free. Arms that took his sword before he even saw that is gone. Smirk on your face, blood splatter on it.

How could they even dare to imagine, they could kill Ivar, when even you gave them a hard time. Were you really that good fighter? How was that even possible? You wondered when the first one fell dead an inch from your feet.

Maybe they were drunk. That would explain their delusions about harming a war god. But you weren’t quite sober too. Mead was sweet and with every new cup your problems and questions were drifting away.

You fell again. Loud pressure excluding the sounds of his sword traveling your way. Instead of cold metal his warm breath finished on your neck. Disgusting. Instead face of Valkiryies his ugly mug. His dead ugly mug. 

No one was around. Only still warm corpses of usurpers you and your surprise.

Your savior? No, rising to your feet, you scanned surrounding in hope to find person to whom you owed your gratitude.

Arrow, no more or less than pierced in the neck core of your most successful attacker, but who was the owner of precise arm, and why he didn’t came to brag about it, clam the right to comfort damsel in distress. Try to own your blood and adrenaline soaked body at least for tonight.

Shy modesty wasn’t Vikings trait that even you could remember.

Man slaughter of that scales couldn’t pass unnoticed. You were waiting for your trial and contemplated your destiny surprisingly without fear. Death couldn’t be worse than life spent in regret for knowing that you could save a life and you didn’t.

 

Ivar’s POV

He took more than usual time to groom his appearance before the trial, even took a newest black armor he got as a present from Olaf.

True he always took care about his looks, more than other man, and until he hadn’t seen the mirror for the first time, he wasn’t aware how better looking of them all he was, like they wasn’t even the same race. He said to himself it must be from the divine bloodline, rumors that he isn’t mortal crept into his ears too, and in time he took that foolish regards serious, concluding that, that must be reason of his invinciblines. But….

she protected him.

Not in the battlefield, not because it was her duty.

She did it when no one was looking, well technically no one, because he found himself nearby. He couldn’t sleep, pain was too intense, he had to let that energy out and the best place for it was the forgery hut.

Conspiracy against him was an innovation so to speak. Fools dared to think about it out loud. Listening to their mission impossible dreams with a smirk on his face, he was imagining most brutal ways to end their miserable existance.

But he had to save his savior first,

And now he needed to be the judge of actions.

Crowd roared his name, he wished if he can only go a little bit faster to avoid the certain smells some of his solders contaminated the air with.

And when he reached his throne, and came to a spot he didn’t had to watch his step anymore, his eyes found their way to her intriguing face.

She was fearless again.

Standing with her head up high, unafraid, calm.

Arse kissing member of his army started jabbing about terrible crimes she committed, suggestions for her punishment… but his words was just a sound he rather ignored as his other senses was busy with marveling the girl.

“Enough!” he said and silence overtook everything except two heartbeats pounding louder than normal.

 

 

Reader POV

“Come closer y/n” his command directed to you was barely audible from the effect his eyes had on your ability to perceive the world around you, and yet your body obeyed. Your eyes were magnetized, fear of losing your head under his blade was absent as your ability to say something except. “I..”

“You did well” he said. “I’m impressed. You are truly a real Viking. See this… where we grew up has no effect as the fact who we are truly born to be, and when we embrace it the unstoppable force is born!” he said to his army, with his gaze finishing back to you, his free hand reached to you.

“Y/n from now on till Valhala don’t open its door to us I ask you to join me in my victories and days of glories to come. If you want?” his expression turned to insecure at the end and you accepted his arm, stepping closer than bending the knee in front of the king.

“There is nothing I want more” you said finally letting go of the previous life that wasn’t your own, accepting your legacy and your future, that little crumb of fear being crushed under his power and the effect radiance of it had on you.

 

T H E E N D


End file.
